My Trevor
by xanthofile
Summary: Slash [two part one shot] There was always more to Trevor than was apparent. A little magic goes a long way in this sweetly odd romance.
1. Chapter 1

ok, here's the two-part one shot i've been working on for about...two or three weeks now, from an idea that just came to me as i worked on the last installment of Just Friends.

just to let you know, that the Neville portrayed in this is not the one from JF at all...he's different. the plot line is pretty much OOC, and takes place as if the last two books never came out. so it's their 6th year.

and, last but not least, i dedicate this to **animedorkette**, for all her lovely prodding me to finish this! waves carbon copies of all the pokey-prodding emails so yeah, hope you enjoy this!

_Wednesday, 25 January, 2006. 10: 55 pm_

* * *

"Did you hear 'bout…."

"…Two tongue of newts, powdered earthworm…."

"…Can't believe the essay Flitwick expects done by…."

"They explode, ya know, and then…."

The voices of the common room washed over Neville, as they always did, especially as no one was ever talking just to _him_. But he didn't mind, as it gave him time to study up on his favorite subject…and to talk to the only being known to listen to his every thought and whim without interruption, without wanting to be elsewhere. Someone that depended upon him with total devotion.

Trevor.

At the moment, the toad was cradled in his left palm and resting in the boys lap, where he sat hunched over and legs crossed beneath him upon a secluded chair. His free hand gently stroked his pet's warm and mildly sticky flesh, fingers lightly stroking along familiar bumps and curves and bulges. The toad had been the only thing to listen to the boy with no tangible friends to speak of; sure, there were people that he sometimes spent time with, but no one that was just his _friend_, who wanted to spend free time with him.

That was ok too, because he'd never really had too many people to lean on anyway. Growing up with his parents elsewhere, and then his grandmother being who she was…and his family was nice and all, but he was still someone caught in the middle of everything, and forgotten. So after a time, Neville began to forget things too; growing up, it had never been too important to know such tasks as mealtimes and wash times and lessons. One could almost say that he'd pretty much raised himself, other than the presence of his grandmother at all times. It was her that kept him grounded, kept him from completely drifting away unto himself. He loved her with everything he had within him, and it was this love that enabled him to remember most things. Such as when to eat. But it was other trivialities that forever escaped him.

But now, he was absorbed into touching Trevor, of being able to have the freedom to touch the little body; fragile bones just below super thin flesh, muscles catching against his skin as he skimmed his finger everywhere.

It was as his finger was stroking the toad's underbelly that Trevor let out a faint croak, causing the boy to smile even as he murmured, "Pervert."

There was a soft croak in answer, making the boy's smile widen into a grin as he lifted up his best friend and gave him a friendly nuzzle with his nose, not caring that to anyone looking, he seemed so childish and naïve.

Innocent.

An innocent little boy who's seventeenth birthday went by without notice. An innocent boy that had an ache in his chest from the want of love from another for him, the want of love from anyone that would show just the tiniest shred of care.

"…Someone to cuddle with, Trev. Someone to kiss me and mean it, who'll tell me when I need it that they love me. Someone with eyes only for me. That's what I want, forever." A soft and broken little whisper, spoken late at night, the toad's owner curled up on his side with his pet cradled to his chest in a sleepy manner.

The rest of the boys asleep or nearly there; it wouldn't have mattered, as Neville's whisper was barely loud enough for him to _feel_, not to mention _hear_. But saying it made things easier, knowing that someone listened to him, at least. And so what if it was only a toad? Trevor was the closest thing to his heart, even if he couldn't talk, and probably didn't understand most of what he was told.

But Neville could always pretend, couldn't he?

He'd pretended before, when he was much younger, and years from entering Hogwarts. Years before he'd received his pet. He'd pretended to have a friend, a real boy that had kept constant company with him. A boy that had been as real to Neville as his grandmother, much to her chagrin and worry. He'd been named Trevor…the first Trevor. A boy that had shared his food, his bed, his secrets. It had been due to the worry of his grandmother at what she viewed as an unhealthy obsession that had lead to Neville receiving the second Trevor. And make believe boys can never hold salt with a living breathing _being_. So the pretend boy had gradually disappeared, replaced with the toad. Who seemed completely unaware that his supposed personality was really just a reflection of a past friend and confidant of his master. A friend that had forever earned the special love of Neville, even if the boy himself didn't realize it.

But it was as the boy's eyes were heavily drifting shut that Trevor gave out an odd sort-of-answering croak, and a waver of something tinged with magic hovered over the two before dissipating down into the two still bodies.

--- --- ---

Neville's eyes snapped open in time to realize that the room he was supposedly sleeping in was dark. Really dark, more so than he'd have remembered from the Hogwarts dorm. The next thing he realized was that there was a small figure curled up against his chest. And it was not toad shaped, by any means. His breath hitched, especially as a strange glow occurred and gently lit up the room he…they…were in.

It was a boy, with straw colored hair bordering on brown in some places. He looked to be about nine or ten, which would account for his small and compact stature. And he was wearing a pair of pajamas that matched Nev's…in fact; the ones covering the boy's body were huge and painted an adorable picture, despite the odd circumstances of the situation.

And…and Neville was beginning to panic, his breaths coming in wheezing pulls as his eyes flit around the room…before abruptly deducting that it was his own, from his home. But…how did he come to be here? The last thing he could actively remember was talking to Trevor before falling asleep, and then he was…here.

With…him.

Someone that was beginning to pull warning bells in the back of his mind.

There was a shift in the bed, which caused him to give out an involuntary shriek of surprise, his gaze ripping down to see that the boy was sleepily turning onto his back, eyelashes twitching before fluttering open. Their gazes caught, and Neville began to drown in the odd pupils of the boy's eyes…large black center, ringed by a rich and expressive brown iris. There was no white to the boy's eyes at all…and even as he watched, the black pupil suddenly shrunk down, just before the boy became a flurry of activity…scurrying _away_ from Neville and giving out little gasping sobs as he cast a desperate look about him for some way of escape.

Alarmed, Neville leant forward and worriedly gasped, "Trevor…!"

Both froze, eyes wide as they regarded the other in absolute shock. Tears sprang up to sting Nev's eyes as he whispered again that name, feeling the old ache at seeing his dearest friend; how could he have ever forgotten such a boy?

The boy seemed to be getting over his fear, awe seeping onto his face as he shakily asked, "Nevvie?"

This met a broad grin, and then there was another flurry of activity as they rushed at each other, arms wrapping tightly enough to cause them problems in breathing. They began to gasp out interrogations, overlapping questions and demands for how the other has been in their absence.

Until it all faded away, replaced with a dull sadness; this was troublesome to them both. Trevor was a boy, as he had been when Neville finally stopped needing him, but Nevvie had grown up. It left a disparate gap between the two, one that felt as if it'd never be filled.

"I…I missed you, you left me for so long…." Trevor finally whispered, causing guilt to flare up in the other boy.

"I didn't mean to, I…I went to school, and Gram gave me…." He gasped, frantically sending glances around them, looking to see if the toad was there with him. But he wasn't.

"What, Nevvie? Can I help?" Trevor asked worriedly, especially at seeing the fallen look of his best friend…the boy he'd lived for, so long ago.

"I was…whatever's happened to me…Trevor didn't come." Neville despaired, not noticing the shock on the boy's face.

"But…."

"My toad." Neville stated softly, having finally noticed his friend's discomfort. He was unprepared for the raw pain on the boy's face at that proclamation, sobs abruptly ripping from the tiny form.

"You replaced me," was the reason for the crying, and Neville automatically reached out and hugged him to his chest, running a soothing hand down the other's back.

"I gave you a body." Neville murmured truthfully, but it didn't help with the boy's sobbing. So Neville continued to offer comfort, until the both of them gradually shifted into lying down, drifting back into slumber.

--- --- ---

Voices were what woke him, the normal morning routine that had become so familiar to him over the years at Hogwarts. Speaking of which…when his eyelids popped open, he confirmed that he was indeed back in the bed at school, back to being…normal? A soft croak brought his attention to the toad that was sitting upon his pillow, currently staring at him more avidly than he could ever recall before.

"Trevor…?" he whispered, but the toad didn't say anything, and…why was he feeling an odd squirm of disappointment?

That feeling remained throughout the day, and he couldn't help the way his eyes were drawn back to his pet more often than not, wondering if the whole thing had been a strange dream of some sort. But it had felt so _real_. Besides, he'd not thought of his imaginary friend in ages (oh, how he mentally cringed at calling someone as real to him as Trevor had been as being imaginary). So where could such a dream have come from? Neville knew enough to know that these things are ever rarely coincidental in nature, not when Fate decides to mingle with it.

A thought that made him want to both flush with excitement and pale with extreme dread.

---

"I think Trevor's sick, Neville. He's not acting the same."

He was jerked out of a contemplative stare at the toad sitting just above his plate at dinnertime, looked up to see the mildly interested face of Dean.

"Hm?" he asked, having not really caught the statement.

"Trevor looks sick, 'e's all…unmovin'. Does 'e even _breath_?"

More people had tuned into the conversation, and…Trevor seemed to have sensed the attention, because he gave an odd little croak and immediately jumped through Nev's mashed potatoes (fortunately, they were sans gravy) and into his lap. Everyone laughed, while Nev lovingly picked the toad up and held him up at face level, checking to see that he was all right. And again, he was drowning in black and brown eyes, his own dark blue ones widening with shock and a feeling of…déjà vu.

It was this that made him push away from the table without much warning, causing others around him to seem shocked as they watched him hurry from the Great Hall. But none of them really thought too much about it, as Seamus chose that moment to say something remarkably funny about something a professor had said earlier that day.

--- ---

Neville's heart was beating a fragile rhythm, overly excited as he decided to escape somewhere he could pretty much be alone…the men's toilets on the third floor. It was next to always deserted, and most certainly during the evening mealtime. Sure enough, the place was empty, and Neville finally set his toad down upon the lip of a porcelain sink, before crouching down so that they were at eye level.

"Trevor…." He breathed, and the toad gave him a soft croak.

"My…my _friend_, Trevor?" he asked warily, feeling stupid, but having to _ask_ all the same. Again, there was a soft croak.

"You…move left." He breathlessly directed, and the toad looked mildly confused before taking a step to the right.

"I meant…ha, I meant _my_ left." Neville exhaled, shocked beyond belief when the toad sent him a baleful glare and took a step to the _other_ left.

And his eyes lit up as he gasped, "It's _you_! Trevor…how…?"

He was going to say more, but when his hand reached out to touch his…friend…the room began to swim, before it faded altogether.

---

Fingers brushed against his cheek, and he groaned before his eyes flicked open, his vision blurry before focusing upon an increasingly familiar face.

"Trev…bloody hell, you're…!"

He jerked upright, staring at the young man kneeling before him; Trevor now appeared to be about fourteen years of age, the pajamas from before not so large upon his frame anymore. His hair had darkened enough to be called a honey-brown, but his eyes remained the same. The teen seemed nervous as he shyly glanced down at his aged body, biting his lip as he glanced back up.

"I know, I woke up like this…and…I can remember everything that happened when I was…a toad." And bloody hell, his voice was deeper and more mature, making butterflies flit about in Neville's stomach as he realized that he was only three years older than this Trevor.

"So, you _were_ my toad." Nev stated foolishly, blushing with embarrassment when his friend sent him a fondly teasing grin.

"Yeah, and you changed in front of me and ever'thing. I thought I'd die of embarrassment at seeing your c-" A hand slapped over his mouth, Neville's eyes wide at seeing this dirty-minded side of his best friend, even as blood surged to his face at the very thought that this…this boy had seen him naked.

"Pervert." He breathed, startled to feel the tiny giggles that shook his friend's body.

"I'm just turned fifteen…how I know is 'yond me, but I am. Can't help but to think about sexy biz all the time!" the boy protested, heat flaring up in his cheeks but unable to lie. Neville's eyebrow rose in derision, causing Trevor to quail…before the older boy lapsed into easy chuckles of empathy.

"I 'member being fifteen, s'okay Trev."

Relieved, Trevor looked about the room, which was the same as the last 'episode'.

"I've never left this place." He stated softly, making Neville frown with curiosity.

"Where were you…until recently?" The other boy shrugged, a bewildered look upon his face.

"Dunno, can't rightly say. I remember flashes of stuff…but it's all hazy. The last thing I remember clearly was when you showed me a letter…for school, it was. I was excited, I wanted to learn magic too."

"I'm a horrid wizard, ever'one knows it. I can't remember simple spells, and my potions always blow up." Neville admitted glumly.

"You kid me! Yer a great wizard, I _know_ it! You made stuff 'appen all the time, I 'member!" Trevor protested eagerly, brow raised slightly.

"That stuff was different…anyone could open doors and stuff our first year. 'Alohamora', it's called."

"Aloha-what? You never said any of that mumbo-jumbo. You just _did_ it."

Neville's forehead furrowed, trying to recall…and flashes of his childhood began to filter in; of putting out a hand and gently touching a locked side door to the back yard, of having it open even as he grabbed Trevor's hand and they laughed as they bolted from the house to be free until later caught. Of accidentally dropping his Gram's favorite vase when him and Trevor rushed around a corner of a hallway, hands clasped together in a way that had been customary to them back then. That vase had tipped over, and horrified, Neville had suddenly wished that it could _fly_…and then it had. It had zipped right back up onto the tiny table, wobbling in place for a moment before becoming still again. As if nothing had happened. They'd been four at the time.

"I…I can't do any of that anymore." Neville finally stated, uncomfortable with the astounded look upon his best friend's face.

"What? Nuffing?"

Nev blushed, shrugging as he corrected, "Not that…sort of stuff. I can do spells and the like, now." He reached for his wand…before realizing that he was still wearing pajamas, and there was no wand in sight. Feeling defeated, he slumped his shoulders, causing his friend to lean over and rub his back in a comforting manner.

And again, the world went hazy.

--- --- ---

The world was still when Neville woke, the floor hard underneath his face and hands…and body? Oh yeah, he was lying on the tiled floor of the men's toilets, wasn't 'e? He groaned softly at the thought of the filthy floor beneath his skin as he pushed himself upright…and jerked when his eyes caught sight of Trevor-the-toad sprawled not more than a foot away. Concerned, the teen gathered his legs up underneath him and crawled over to his friend, tenderly sliding a palm beneath the warm body and lifting him upwards. And he twitched, seeming to come out of whatever had happened to them, but still disoriented.

"Trevor, it's Nev…you alright, mate?" he whispered softly, and smiled when there was an answering croak, even as the toad shifted about and looked up at him. Nev stroked against his head with a finger, and he seemed to enjoy the touch, making the teen grin.

But then he sobered as he brought Trevor up to eye level, stating, "I don't know if I can take much more of this."

Trevor seemed to agree, as the remark was answered with a firm croak.

--- --- ---

"Neville…it's late? Where did you disappear to?" Hermione asked him this when he stepped through the common room entrance of the dormitory, where her and Ron and Harry where sitting there at the couch closest to the fire.

"I…I got lost." Neville stated stupidly, and saw Ron roll his eyes at the statement. But Harry and Hermione shared a strange look before turning back towards the poor boy.

"Are you sure? I mean…how could you be lost?" Harry asked, and red tinted Neville's cheeks at the patronizing looks upon all their faces.

"Just…got lost. And Trevor…I lost Trevor, I had to find him."

It was a lame excuse, but they seemed to finally buy it, as they turned back to whatever they'd been working on when he'd come in. Relieved, he quickly made his way up the stairs, as fast as he could without tumbling all over the place with his usual klutzy grace…but then again, maybe he was too excited to have time to stumble over his own feet. Not a single misstep, not a bumble or trip up.

But he never noticed.

--- --- ---

"Close yer eyes, Trev, I wanna change." Neville's whisper was soft, but very firm, causing the toad to give an indignant croak before hopping over and hiding his face against the pillow. Adorable, really, and Neville took a moment to savor it before remembering that he was supposed to be changing.

And he did so in record time, before cheerfully announcing when Trevor could turn back around. After that was a small flurry of activity as Neville crawled into bed and got situated, consciously aware of making sure his friend was comfortable as well. And this time, when they drifted off to sleep, they stayed toad and boy, wallowing in the kind of dreams that never make an impression enough to remember in the morning.

--- --- ---

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"What Neville did in class today?"

"Did he set himself on fire again?" Ron and Harry's snickers met this statement, while Hermione frowned and rolled her eyes.

"No, he did not. As a matter of fact, he was _brilliant_. Or were you too busy trying _not_ to pay attention to notice that he was the only other one to complete today's assignment? _Before_ me."

The two boys stilled, shock clear on their faces before turning to view the teen in question. He was sitting alone in the common room, which wasn't unusual, but today he seemed to be in oddly high spirits.

"I think he's going barmy, that one. Always with that stupid toad of his." Ron muttered, and Hermione smacked him upside the head before letting the subject drop.

* * *

A/N: on to part two! (clicky the button, shall we?)


	2. Chapter 2

ok, just want to let you know that a smut scene comes into this chapter.

and this takes place some time after the first half.

enjoy!

_Wednesday, 25 January, 2006. 11:16 pm._

* * *

"If I do something, will you promise not to be mad?"

Neville cocked an eyebrow at his friend, intrigued to say the least at the grim expression on Trevor's face.

They'd realized fairly early on that the teen was still aging, steadily growing older until he'd finally caught up with the other's age. Neither one had a plausible reason as to why this happened, but it did, and so they took it into stride. It had been several months since that first occurrence, and these visits were happening fairly regularly now.

"I doubt I could stay mad at you for very long, regardless of what you do." Nev stated honestly, puzzled when his friend's melancholy expression only deepened.

"You say that now, but…."

There was a pause, and then Trevor sighed in defeat; reaching out, he slid the point of his finger against the dry lower lip of the boy sitting very close to him. Nev's eyes widened, too shocked to protest much as he saw fluttered-shut eyelids staring back at him…just before warmth descended against his mouth. When those lips pulled away from his a few seconds later, they didn't go very far, hovering as they parted to allow a slip of air to be drawn in.

"Don't be angry when I say that I love you."

Neville felt these words almost as much as he heard them, felt the waver in their owner's voice. And the warmth from that other boy pulled away, cheeks dully red as his gaze lowered downwards with shame.

"I know that I am nothing, not even a real person…hell, you created me and all, but…I love you Neville. I _love_ you."

The teen was in utter shock; never had someone kissed him before. Never had someone told him such an honest emotion, in spite of their fears and insecurities that he wouldn't return it. And _did_ he return it? Did he love Trevor…the way the boy wanted him to?

The two boys spent several long moments in utter silence, Trevor grappling with his mortification and heartbreak, and Nev…trying to sort out if it would hurt him more to admit that his love wasn't returned, or if Neville were to say that it was and then later changed his mind. Because right now…right now, all he really wanted was for Trevor to be with him forever. His best friend, his mate…always there. What if they discovered that their love is the wrong sort for lovers? Neville was afraid that Trevor would go away for good this time, and he'd have lost him.

The most important person in his entire life.

It was that final thought that seemed to strike something within the teen, that made him reach out to touch his shoulder as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his friend's burning cheek.

"Stay with me, always."

Before there could really be any sort of preparation for the other's reaction, Trevor had thrown his entire weight against him, tumbling them both off of the bed and onto the floor in a severely jarring manner. Neville wheezed as his lungs failed to properly work, heard his soft groan before he was leaning his face over Nev's field of vision. And once he could breathe again, he began to giggle, reaching up and looping his arms about Trevor's neck, loving the silly smile he got from the affection.

--- --- --- (more time passes)

Not many people understood Neville's gradual change; not many even noticed that he smiled a lot more than he ever had, that he disappeared into his thoughts rather often, his eyes bright and face serene. But they sure as hell noticed the day he suddenly appeared with a red blotch on his neck…looking suspiciously like what is termed a 'love mark', or hickey.

And let's just say that the small roughly circular patch caused a wave of hissed and increasingly outrageous gossip to fly. Talk that Neville had found himself a secret lover; someone most likely younger than the boy was himself. Probably a seemingly cherubic young girl in the fourth or fifth years, probably a girl that was considered sweet and too nice for her own good. Someone overlooked as being anything more than a book worm at best, a complete nobody. But never did anyone stop to think that maybe the person who'd given it to him was a boy…mischievous and light-hearted…and totally devoted to the boy he loved.

--- --- ---

"That mark stayed, just like you thought it would."

The two were lying curled up together on that bed, familiarly wrapped around the other's warm body, their lips mildly plump from the bout of tranquil kisses that had tapered off not too long before.

"Mm…told you."

Neville grinned at this sleepy reply, moving his fingers so they continually worked against the soft cotton of the other's shirt.

"You said it _might_." He reprimanded, and was treated with the body against his side rolling over, covering his chest and most of his upper thighs as Trevor stared down at him, those uniquely brown eyes laughing.

"Close enough." He stated, his lips pulling apart to show his teeth as he grinned, loving how Neville never refused to lay this way, never refused his kisses and ever-increasingly needy touching. As if Nevvie might need them just as much. And maybe he did, because when their lips again touched, and parted, and tongues tasted…it was Neville who ached for more, pressing his mouth urgently against his best friend's in hopes of securing this desire.

It was Neville whose body strained and arched from a searing heat growing deep in his belly, taking root and spreading into his groin with enough force to cause even his willing lover to give a startled gasp.

Trevor's face pulled back, eyes wide even as his lips retained a glossy shine, and he stared down at Neville's turned face, the boy's eyes scrunched shut with both his need and embarrassment for reacting so strongly. And in a giddy experiment, he ran his fingertips down Nev's ribcage, ecstatic at the shuddering moan that followed the action.

A few more airy and provocative touches later, and he'd reduced the teen into a tightly wound trip wire. One wrong move and Neville was gone.

"Nevvie…do you want this…truly _want_ this? With me?"

Nev's eyes fluttered at the question, only one thought surfacing for a moment…and that being, 'YES.' But then his brain did a reboot, and his eyes opened, once he finally understood the real meaning behind the words. And the worried brown eyes that met his own said everything. All Trevor's insecurities were right there, despite the odd mask that his eyes seemed to possess.

He was worried about what this could mean between them…that it would be…disastrous. He was saying that he refused to partake in such an act if Neville's heart wasn't part of it…if his love wasn't returned.

And there was just a beat of pause before Neville closed the distance between them with a gentle kiss, saying that which he was unable to put into words at that moment. This time there was no hesitation as the urgency of their lips grew, as fingers gave into that unspoken freedom of unwarranted touch, the sort of touch of only those willing to give everything they had to another. Complete trust and familiarity.

But they were still teenage boys, and far more quickly than was really _necessary_, the two had their clothes skewed and more skin bared than was ever covered in the first place.

Despite the urgency, they still found time for a bit of humor, as Trevor nosed his way into the pit of Nev's underarm, causing the boy to laugh and cry, "Oi, I stink!"

Which was met with a sly grin before Neville got his own share of sweaty armpit, both collapsing into giggles when a choking moan of despair met the action.

It was this that cut through the seriousness of the situation, giggles and laughter rampant through their kisses and fumbling about, a veil dropping over their eyes and minds, until there was only the next touch, the next kiss, always needing so much more. Until the levity abruptly melted away, leaving two panting boys with steadily leaking erections, one completely naked…while Trevor still wore his open pajama shirt…it was hanging off his shoulders and had slipped down one arm, but he was still technically _wearing_ it.

And it _really_ began with a searing kiss, warm and pliable; tongues flickered into that tiniest gap between them, meeting the air before delving deeper as their passions flared up and then simmered down below the surface again…always there, threatening to bubble up. Neither was willing to entertain the notion that they had no clue how to go about fulfilling their base desires; they sort of rationalized that they'd cross that bridge when it really came to the nitty-gritty, so to speak.

And it was exactly this stupidly naïve notion that caused their passions to almost extinguish at the first cry of pain that involuntarily ground from Neville's throat. But it was his fingers curling up in the loose shirt that was still around the other boy's back and shoulders that halted the startled withdrawal…letting both of their bodies get used to relying on pure instinct to get through.

And after a bit of minute trial and error…which brought more than a few salty tears of pain to Nev's eyes…something seemed to work right, because it wasn't too long before that easy rhythm finally took hold.

And this was something that nobody had ever told him, how very…_real_ the whole act is. The pain, the intense pleasure. Feeling sweat begin to collect on his forehead, pooling against his shoulders and belly, collecting in his naval even as droplets fell from his lover's nose onto his own. And normally, all this sweat and pain and ache would gross him out, put him off the entire bit…but this was different. Not just the pleasure…which was nearing the point of pure _agony_ as it sizzled through his veins and nerves and bones…but this was _true_.

There was no faking this, no faking the way Trevor's eyes caught his every time he flicked his own upwards, no faking the way the two of them moved with an unspoken urgency.

There was no faking the way his lover's name jerked from his throat in an anguished groan when that precarious line had been crossed by one sharp thrust too many, no faking when he threw his head back and fought back a hoarse yell of surprised exaltation from having reached that peak. Really, he had no _reason _for his surprise, but he felt it all the same, whimpering softly when Trevor continued for just a few moment's more before he'd tensed up and shuddered, the teen's mouth gaping open and then grinding shut again.

A few groans, sighs, and a haggard, "Ow, ow, ow," later, and the two bodies were separate once again, lying haphazardly across the dirty bedclothes and not really touching that much. Just the spark of warmth from the body lying just at their side, as they were too hot for anything more as they attempted to settle down.

And after a while, Neville was relaxed enough to quietly state, "I love you, Trev."

A soft laugh, and the boy replied, "Tell me that again when you're in the W.C. screaming bloody murder at the pain in yer bum." This drew a full-out laugh from him, although he was already experiencing what could only be termed as agony in the battered region of his backside.

But then again…there was always the thought of giving it back in full…next time.

--- --- ---

"Come on, mate…if you stay in bed, you'll be sent to Pomfrey."

Neville couldn't really tell which boy was talking to him, as he had burrowed so far down into his covers that sound was distorted; his eyes clenched shut as every move just brought more pain.

"Nev…? …Mate?"

He mumbled a rough expletive, but was then speaking up for the first time, his voice hoarse, "Tell 'er I fell yesterday, and my back aches me. It kept me up all night."

"Um…er, right. Nobody knew…um…hope you feel better, then." With that, Seamus finally left him alone, slipping from the empty room and heading down to the common room.

And Neville went back to sleep.

--- --- ---

"'E said he fell down…but he told Ron 'e just felt a bit under the weather."

"Well, there's the bit of truth to both statements…if I fell 'ard enough, I'd be feeling right unpleasant too."

"But it's not like him to act that way after just a fall…did he ever go to Pomfrey?"

"Hm…I don't know. Anyway, if he's like that tomorrow, we'll get him to go…."

--- --- ---

"Why can't we ever leave this room?"

About a month had passed since the first nightly tryst, but it was followed by many more, that can be certain. Not every night, mind, as is the case with this one. Instead, they were just talking, and it was Trevor that asked the question that had been vaguely bothering the both of them since the very beginning. They'd tried to exit that room once before, and had been violently thrown back into their true forms as soon as the door cracked open; Neville shivered to remember the panic and fear he'd felt when he'd jerked back into his body at Hogwarts.

"I don't know…maybe whatever magic this is…it only goes so far."

Trevor bit his lip at Nev's statement, before hesitantly voicing the theory that he'd been slowly developing. "Neville…I think it's _your_ magic."

The boy gaped, his eyes wide before he snorted in derision. "Mine? What magic do I have that could be this strong? You've seen me in class…."

"Have you noticed when I'm near, you're better?" Trevor's voice was soft, but was firming with certainty, sure that he was onto something important. Especially when he saw his lover's pale face, saw the tiny flush that arose; a telltale sign that Neville _had_ noticed.

"You make me relax." Was the stubborn reason, but the other boy gently shook his head.

"No. Neville…I think…you did create me, all those years ago. When you were a boy…you used your magic to make me…so in theory…I _am_ your magic. That's why you're stronger when I'm near."

Neville's hand slipped up to his mouth, teeth beginning to gnaw against his knuckles. "But…."

"No. I can feel it…in here…that I'm right." Trevor's hand went to his temple, demonstrating the odd pull he sometimes felt. Maybe this is why they felt such a strong pull to be together…maybe what they felt wasn't really love at all.

This thought brought tears to Neville's eyes, and he angrily wiped them away as he shook his head.

"No. No, Trevor…that's not how it is at _all_. I love you…I love _you_. Never did I create you from myself…how stupid would it be to fall in love with myself?"

"Do you love me…or is it just…."

Neville's hands reached out and cupped the boy's face, his thumbs gently firm. "I love you, Trevor. Even if I did create you…I love you. I'd rather remain unmagical than ever be without you."

Seeing Trevor's tears, he pulled the boy in closer to him, letting him cry as they tightly embraced, Neville's cheek pressed against the other's neck.

--- --- --- (Christmas holidays)

"Stupid toad lover, what a pansy."

Neville didn't hear the words; on his knees upon the floor of the train compartment, numbly scooping the broken body of Trevor off the now-bloody carpet. He was too shocked to cry at knowing that Trevor was _dead_, too shocked to feel anything. Too shocked to see how it was Ron who attacked the cretin cruel enough to kill the boy's pet, let alone the fact that nobody knew how important the toad really was to the boy.

It was Hermione that noticed the strange sight of a jerk passing through Neville's body, before his eyes rolled up and he pitched to the side, abruptly unconscious.

--- --- ---

"I've never seen someone turn gray like that before…I thought he was dead at first…." Hermione was shaken, even after Neville had come to a minute or two afterwards; shaken by how his eyes seemed to be blank, how he didn't even look at Trevor again.

Even now, he was seated across from them, head leaning against the chilly window as he stared out; they were speaking in whispers, but for all the reaction he was providing, they could have talked in normal tones.

"I know he doted on Trevor, but really…he was just a _toad_…."

"Ron, you freaked when you thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers." Harry pointed out impatiently, and the redhead blushed before sneaking another look at Neville.

"Okay, point taken…but still…he doesn't look normal." All three of them looked at him again, silently agreeing.

No, he did not look normal, not at all.

--- --- ---

Neville refused to go into his room, knowing that the very sight would bring back the pain he'd buried, the pain he was desperately suppressing. And seeing that room would only make him lose control, lose whatever grip he was maintaining at the moment. Thus…he stayed away. If anyone noticed his aversion to his own bedroom during that first week of the Christmas hols, they chose not to mention it.

Not even when he was discovered to be sleeping in one of the guest rooms, wearing the same outfit he'd worn since his arrival; his trunks had been placed in his room, and thus he had no spare to change into. And he didn't wake as strong arms lifted him up, as he was cradled and gently carried to his bedroom, left to sleep in his own bed unawares. Nor did he notice when gradual warmth grew at his side, steady as a leaking faucet…until heat enveloped him and the person to whom the arm curling over his stomach belonged.

--- --- ---

It was the lack of that warmth that awoke him in the waxing light of early morning, a sudden depth of cold at his back, causing his eyes to sleepily open. For a moment, he was disoriented, rubbing his eye before turning over onto his back, eyes blearily looking up at the familiar ceiling. And with it came a dash of those memories he'd wanted to forget, but the feelings were the same as all the other mornings; he'd been unable to get rid of those, try as he might. Just being in this room made him feel…as if he wasn't alone, and it made his heart break, to know that he _was_.

He needed to leave….

It was this thought that made him sit upright, eyes shuttered as they tried so very hard not to let loose of his tears, to not give into the flurry of pain and anguish fluttering about underneath his skin.

Until he saw the naked figure seated upon their knees…the figure that sat there staring at the closed bedroom door, their arms crossed and tightly hugging their torso. That familiar dark blonde hair, the familiar curved spine.

"Trevor…." Neville was sure that he'd gone officially insane, seeing things.

"Is it real? If I open that door, does it go back to the way it was before?" That low voice, abruptly recognizable even though it was full of terror and uncertainty…and deep pain.

And, moving slowly, in case the hallucination were to fade away, Neville removed the blankets from his legs and gingerly left the bed, his steps slow and measured as he walked over to the trembling figure. He just as slowly sank down to his knees, his eyes fixed upon Trevor, in case he really was masochistically insane, his own mind wishing to kill him too.

"I remember…it really _hurt_…and then I sort of…was gone. And I was miserable. Then I just…woke up, and for a moment, I thought…is any of this _real_? Will it be like it was before? Didn't I die?"

Neville finally chanced reaching out and touching him, bursting into tears when he found firm resistance to his fingers, when Trevor turned into his touch and launched himself at Nevvie.

"You were _broken_…." Neville sobbed, unconsciously rocking their bodies back and forth. And they didn't understand how it was that Trevor was _here_, but they reveled in it, tightly embracing in case it all just up and faded without warning.

--- --- ---

"No, what if I disappear?"

Trevor was dressed in one of Neville's outfits, and had pressured his lover to change as well.

"I can't stay in my bedroom for the rest of my life." Neville said softly, rubbing the boy's arm with a warm hand.

"I…." He trailed off when his lover gently kissed him, melting him into being unable to refuse, something that Neville had always managed to bring out in him.

The bloody cheater.

But when they parted, he sighed and took the hand offered him, fear gripping his gut when Neville reached out and turned the doorknob.

--- --- --- (Passage of time)

"Neville…who was that boy with you at the station?"

A warm smile curled over his face, and he admitted, "My fiancé."

Equal looks of utter shock went over everyone's faces that were present to hear this; it was Ron who blurted out, "_Fiancé_?"

"We plan to get married when I finish school, yes."

"Since when?" Again, Neville beamed, serene and happier than he'd ever been.

"We discussed it with my Gram over the holidays."

That was true; that discussion had been the most stressful in his _life_…but she'd taken the entire tale pretty well, and had been the one to propose the current situation. A fiancé is allowed to visit several times a month on weekends…and as Trevor couldn't perform magic on his own, there was no chance of him getting into Hogwarts.

The thought of those visits allowed Neville to feel at peace, despite the ache he did feel at leaving Trevor behind. And they could always write.

"Is he a muggle?" Hermione asked curiously, and got the demure answer of, "Squib. Can't perform a lick of magic."

It was Ron that lowly muttered, "Figures."

But if Neville heard him, he deigned not to pay any attention. No, as far as he was concerned, he knew he was never going to be lonely ever again.

And that was all the cause to be content.

* * *

A/N: well, that's it! i thought it cute, and the idea really _out _there. and what's else...i've realized that i have no idea what to name this thing! O.o so, i'll think of one, and post it ASAP. hope you enjoyed this!


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